Neverland Car Wash
by TheSwanCaptain
Summary: Once upon a hot day of July, 27 year-old Emma takes her yellow bug to Neverland Car Wash in Boston, where she meets Killian, the hot-to-trot establishment Captain. With a little soap, water-hosing, music and hellish temperatures, who knows what will happen. Inspired by the SexyBack!Hook fever on tumblr. Frankenwolf featured. AU-ish. Rated M for mild swearing and sexual content.
1. Take me to Neverland Car Wash

_I totally blame Skywita for unleashing my drabble bunnies at work._

**A/N:** For the purposes of this fic, Killian has both hands, but don't despair, there's still a reason to call him by his more colorful moniker. I don't know who started the SexyBack!Hook fever on tumblr, but to you, many thanks! It served as an inspiration song for this little fic. :) Also featuring, thanks to my excessive fangirling, our honorary musical shippers, if you know who they are. ;) Other OUAT characters guest-starring: Ruby & Whale (Frankenwolf), William Smee, even Greg is mentioned. XD

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything related to OUAT or the plots, characters, dialogues, or stories. Neither do I own any songs, bands, actors or musicians portrayed in this fic. This is purely a result of the plot bunnies that my instigating sister unleashed.

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**Part One: "Take me to Neverland Car Wash."**

Emma Swan had been having a hell of a week, and to classify it as such, being the most badass bounty-hunter in three hundred miles around the Massachusetts area, it sure was. After spending the past few days pursuing her latest felon to catch for more hours a day than she was sure she was being paid for, she found herself sore for sleeping in her car a couple nights, sleepy for trying to catch her ever-running fugitive in the middle of the night, hungry and in desperate need for a nice, cool bubble bath, quick dinner and a movie to doze off until the next day. Or maybe she'd dust off her VCR and play her old cassette of Peter Pan, a movie she'd watched religiously over the years.

It was barely 3:00 pm when she came out of the court's precincts, her bounty cash in her hands. She internally hummed with pleasure as she fondled with the idea that the rest of the afternoon was entirely hers.

"Crap! I feel like a vampire!" She cursed when she stepped onto the parking lot, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the hot, scorching sun of July that sizzled the pavement where she walked. Quite a turn of events, for the Boston sky had been pouring rain like the world was coming to an end, but today, finally, the clouds had receded, taking the cool breeze away with them. In their place, the sun shone, vaporizing the previously flooded streets, raising humidity to outrageous levels, matching the uncomfortably familiar climate of Tallahassee, Florida, a place she swore never to go back to.

"105°F, and no one cares about global warming?!" She muttered to herself, annoyed by her memory as she buckled up inside her bug, rolling down both windows to ventilate her mini-oven and pulling her hair up in a messy ponytail. She definitely had not expected this change in the weather, dressed in a black tank top, her usual tight leggings, and boots up to her knees.

As she started the car and looked through her rear-view mirror, she noticed that someone had left a scribble on the dirty back glass.

"Fucking Greg," she groaned, thinking that her fugitive, accused of running over a guy and abandoning the accident scene, had left an offensive message when she let him out of her bug. No surprise there. Grabbing a red rag stashed in the copilot's compartment, she stood out of her vehicle and strode to the back. She raised an eyebrow in amusement upon reading the advertising scribbled over the plastered dirt covering the glass: "_Take me to Neverland Car Wash_." She stifled a mocking laugh, shaking her head. Who would have the guts to name their establishment like that?

Anyway, she reasoned, her car was really in need of a much deserved wash after driving it around through the sloshing streets, and frankly she didn't have the energy or the will to take care of her yellow baby today. "Where is that place, I wonder?" She prepared to jump back to her seat when her eye caught a blue piece of paper stuck between her windshield and the wiper.

"Neverland Car Wash - Bring your Jolly Roger to our port and it will never grow old!  
Second street to the right of Traveler St. and straight on 'til Peters Park, Boston, MA, 02218.  
_Free oil change in your first visit._"

Now she laughed out loud at the carefully put words in the advertisement. Maybe this place would be worth visiting. Her curiosity was definitely piqued.

She stopped her yellow bug in front of a grocery store to buy some Willy Wonka _pixie sticks_ and a coconut-flavored popsicle before heading to the promised land for cars.

A few minutes later, she found the establishment right across the street from Peters Park. It looked very professional, the two-story, white building towering like a beacon in the sunlight. Hung at its side, in bold script that shone due to blinking blue backlights, was the funny title "_Neverland Car Wash_" with two blue stars twinkling beside the name, obviously. A small clock tower resembling the Big Ben was erected on one of the four corners of the roof, the silhouettes of three boys and one girl painted upon the clock's face. Had she had all the time in the world, she could be strolling around, taking in every detail of the place, but, either it was not as large as she had imagined or… it was crammed full, the parking lot overflowing with all kinds of vehicles.

She left the engine running but the hand brake on and exited her bug, folding her arms in despair upon the beetle's roof, licking her popsicle, as she contemplated the terminal and hopeless possibility of having to wait for more than an hour to get service.

"'Ello, miss," a short Irishman with a red cap walked up to greet her. "Welcome to our humble establishment." The name 'William' was embroidered upon his grey shirt.

_As in William Smee? _Emma snorted to herself. This day kept getting better and better. Maybe a Captain Hook would stroll by, fully dressed in his red coat, any time now. Or maybe they had a creepy crocodile motley stashed somewhere.

"Hi," she exhaled and pressed her lips into a thin smile.

"Nice ride," the friendly guy commented, inspecting the vehicle that appeared to have been taken from a swampy set of Jumanji, then approaching her. "A wash and an interior vacuum, from the looks of this little bug, _innit_?"

She smiled sheepishly, shaking of the dust off her elbows, a little embarrassed now to be driving around town with a load of dirt. "Just the wash."

"Name's William!" He introduced himself, tipping his red cap off - as if his shirt hadn't given her a clue. "I can take it from here, pretty lady. You're invited to come inside, there's A/C and a small cafeteria. Pizza just came out," he offered too politely.

"Uhm... actually..." Emma hesitated, raising a finger. She really wanted to get this over with faster to get to her apartment on the other side of town, so she found no other option than to resort to her feminine wiles. "Listen, _William_," she purred in a low voice, smoldering ever so slightly at the employee. "I don't know if you guys have an ultra-speedy-quick-as-lightning washing fee, but I'm more than willing to cover for it, _generously_," she muttered without breaking eye contact with her victim, smoothly licking a few drops of her fast-melting popsicle before they accidentally slid onto her hand.

"I-I-I..." the Irishman stuttered, blinked and darted out his tongue to wet his lips, his eyes on her mouth, properly bewitched. "Aye, miss," he timidly nodded, rubbing his hands and strolling away. "Bring your car to the back, if you please," he called over his shoulder.

Emma smiled triumphantly and didn't need to be told twice, avoiding the judgmental gazes of the people sitting in their parked, dirty cars, fanning themselves because of the extreme heat. She never really advocated to cut the line, but this would be the only exception, she promised to herself.

Maneuvering her bug around the white concrete building, she pulled it to a stop where the William guy indicated.

"The Cap'n will att-tend you in a minute, poppet," he enunciated still stammering before walking into the establishment.

_The what?_ Emma frowned at the nickname and shook her head, stepping out of her car. _Jeez, they take this 'Peter Pan' thing seriously. _Or was she going to be victimized by a flash mob?

Just then, the roar of the washing machines from the front of the building lowered considerably and she recognized the tune of JT's Sexy Back coming from behind her.

_Oh, God, please don't let this be true,_ she prayed, fearing her worst nightmare had come to fruition. But not even a prayer prepared her for what she was about to witness when she grudgingly turned around...

_I'm bringing sexy back!_  
_Them other boys don't know how to act..._  
_I think it's special what's behind your back,_  
_So turn around and I'll pick up the slack..._

Moving to the rhythm of the sexy song, stood a tall and _shirtless _man, his back facing her. He was polishing the hood of a black Chevy Camaro with two yellow stripes running across it - a 1969 convertible, collector's muscle car, by the looks of it, and the music came from the sweet ride. She only identified the exact model of the vehicle because one of her not-so-bad one-night stands owned one and they'd had an incredible make out session in it before running into a motel. But she forfeited those memories as soon as she noticed his muscles bulging in and out from the tanned, lean back of the mystery man, relishing the view of each wiping movement that enhanced his toned arms. The tilted sun rays cast a dewy glimmer on his bare back, most likely from the sweat produced by his appealing exertion.

Her breath caught in her throat when he walked to face the front of his car: his new, slanted position revealed his hard abs and strong chest. A long, silver chain with two pendants lapped against his muscles in a pendulum motion caused by each breaststroke. Dark chest hair bloomed from his collar bones to his navel and below, and a few strands of his jet-black, disheveled, wet hair fell loosely upon his forehead. She heard him singing along the well-known chorus of the song, his seductive lips protruding from his stubble-covered jaw and his expressive eyebrows conveying the wild emotions of the lyrics.

_Dirty babe..._  
_You see these shackles? Baby, I'm your slave,_  
_I'll let you whip me if I misbehave,_  
_It's just that no one makes me feel this way!_

"Gladly," Emma sighed unconsciously, closing her jaw immediately for she became aware that it had been completely open as she inspected, more like _ogled_ at, the fine features of the car-washer. She was positively sure she'd never seen a more attractive man in her entire life.

Feeling a sudden, cold wetness running down her cleavage, she snapped out of her fantasy and cursed to herself, "_oh, shit!_", as she tried to wipe the sticky remains of her popsicle that had fallen on her shirt with the blue flier but failed miserably at it, smudging her tank top even more. The only thing that comforted her was that it was black and the stain wouldn't be easily noticed after it dried out.

She slapped herself mentally. What was wrong with her? She never acted clumsily at the prospect of smoking-hot men strolling nearby; on the contrary, she relished in the turmoil she produced when she showed off her assets while running through the park or dressed up to catch a runaway. She enjoyed even more the fact that she wasn't tied up, figuratively speaking, to a random or regular guy. She was a free sparrow and came and went as she pleased. She was used to being ogled at, not doing the ogling.

Emma was eyeing her shirt down, not knowing if she felt all the more flustered by the heat or her bad luck, when her peripheral vision caught the sight of black denim and combat boots stepping right in front of her. Immediately, she cocked her head up and met the most brilliant, sea-blue eyes she had ever encountered in her life.

"Fancy yourself pretty special, princess?" The sexyback stranger tutted in a reprobatory yet teasing tone, a smirk playing in the corners of his lips.

_Uhm... hello_, her conscience greeted lustfully. "Eh-excuse me?" She managed to blurt out of her stunned state.

"Well, if you could convince my right hand," he motioned toward the building where William stood inside, peeking through the curtains, "to sneak you past the never-ending line of customers, you must be either a charming princess or a beguiling mermaid. Although, I'm more inclined about the latter one," he explained merrily, narrowing his gaze at her as he prepared to assess her answer.

_Christ_, he had an Irish accent too, and a much more tantalizing one than the _Smee _guy.

"Neither. I just asked politely," she calmly stated, feigning innocence, even though her body slanted ever so slightly toward him and his exposed chest.

He shot her a dubious look that screamed 'liar', the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, but he dropped his judgy facade with a wiggle of his eyebrows.  
"And where are my manners? We haven't been properly introduced," he protested, extending his left hand toward her. "Killian Jones, rockstar," he added with a wink.

_More like Killian O'Liferuiner_, her conscience corrected. _Oh, shut up,_ she ordered back.

"So that's why the guyliner is for?" She retorted with sarcasm, not bothering to shake his superficial gesture, but pointing at his eyes instead.

"It helps minimize the blinding glare that comes off of the cars... and well..." he shrugged and quickly snatched her hand, bringing it close to his lips, barely kissing her knuckles - his heated and intent gaze releasing not a rabble of butterflies, but a flock of _swans _all over her stomach - "helps with the ladies too." His hot breath wasn't helping the swiftly-rising fever she could bet she was having.

"I didn't catch your name," he murmured, his fingers still hovering over her knuckles, waiting for her reply.

Emma felt a cold shiver run down her spine and instantly came back from her insane train of thoughts. "I didn't say it," she answered with a tight smile and reclaimed her hand.

_Oh you've gotta be kidding me,_ Emma rolled her eyes when she discovered a hook tattooed on the inside of his left wrist. _The Cap'n, right..._

He only smirked more at her reaction. "Is this the first time that you've come here?"

"Why?" Emma had her eyes locked up with Killian's and her hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans, fearing her body would betray her and ogle at his hair-covered chest, _again_.

However, the smug bastard didn't show any qualms as his gaze raked her body upwards. "Well, I would remember your... face." He stared her down again, a pleased grin gracing his much too handsome jaw.

_Of course, ever the ladies' man._ Emma glared at him for his unabashed actions, but as much as she would have loved to punch the smirk off of his face, she secretly admired his guts. At least he was being honest about his intentions toward her, that much she could deduce from his body language and the inflections of his brogue.

"_Yeah_... I'm in a bit of a hurry so, just get on with the wash and never mind about the free oil change," she ordered, like the spoiled princess he'd accused her of being. She wouldn't let him get under her skin. _Much too late for that_, her small cricket chirped inside her.

"As you wish, milady! You never forget your first," he grinned lecherously at her as he pulled out a red handkerchief from the back of his trousers and started to dry the sweat beads that clung to his fit chest... and neck... and hair.

This small but significant act squeezed out every ounce of determination from Emma to not give into her carnal needs and jump his bones right then and there. They were playing a little game called 'stare-me-down-for-as-long-as-you-can', but he was evidently cheating, trying to distract her. Emma didn't even realize she'd been holding her breath, when she inhaled sharply at the sound of a dangling door bell. _Saved by the bell, how cliché_. Killian was the first to break the stare and she gratefully looked away from the hypnotizing, sky-blue eyes.

"There you are, captain," an excited, high-pitched female voice called towards them, and Emma felt a twinge of pain (or was it jealousy?) in her gut. A slender, pale and leggy brunette, with red streaks in her dark, wavy hair, trotted up to meet Killian, impersonating a supermodel on a runway, scantily clad and heel-ridden.

"Yes, Ruby darling," Killian greeted her in a sultry voice, his fingers hovering over her slim, bare waist, drawing her near.

The tall girl pecked him gently on his scruffy cheek and placed an arm around his neck. "Johnny called," she reported, caressing his chest hair with her red nails, "he asked if it was fine to move the rehearsal an hour earlier."

"You mean at seven? _Ugh!_ I have to go home and shower; I can't get back in time," he pouted, his strong eyebrows knitting.

Ruby's thin eyebrows, however, shot up as an idea popped into her mind. "You can shower in my place," she offered almost innocently, feeling the blonde customer's gaze reading their exchange.

Emma rolled her eyes, her patience was diminishing by the second. If she had wanted to watch a nonsensical soap opera she could have done it from the comfort of her couch, instead of roasting herself in this infernal, concrete oven of a parking lot.

Killian was studying her from out of the corner of his eyes. Fake-flirting with the _wolf girl_, as his crew called Ruby, was a resort he used whenever the female gender failed to fawn over him. It was a good thing she was his wingwoman, nothing romantic had ever happened between the two of them, and both were sure that it never would. They were practically brother and sister; they'd always taken care of each other for as long as they could remember, and her grandmother was his 'Granny' too. He owed them more than he could ever repay them for helping him get back up from his miserable state a few years ago, not letting him fall again into vices like alcohol and drugs to ease his pain.

Presently, he tried to make sure that the blonde woman would eventually return - at least out of curiosity - so he kept engaging in small-talk with Ruby. Normally, this little experiment would let him know if the girl was worth the chase, because too often, the girls proved to be shallow, or too easy to get, or with self-esteem issues, or too intimidated that they ran off like scared deer... and it vexed him to waste his time.

_Time_ was much too precious to him, too valuable to be spending it with the wrong person. Proof of that was the tattoo on his right hand, that seem to burn fiercely whenever he discovered that a girl wasn't the one, and he severed all his emotional bonds with said person immediately. Yet, he had the nagging feeling that this blonde, stuck-up, stubborn lass was as singular and limited-edition as they came, much like his Camaro, an extinguishing breed.

"_Ehem!_" Emma cleared her throat shamelessly to command the lovebirds' attention.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Ruby smiled coyly, "did I interrupt something?" She pointed at Killian whilst looking at the blond spectator.

"No! Not at all, I'm just tired and hungry and need a car wash, but I'm okay here, below the scorching sun," Emma retorted, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Peachy," Killian mocked, squinting at her.

"And this gentleman here didn't invite you in?" Ruby slapped playfully at Killian.

Emma slowly raised an eyebrow. "What gentleman?" She asked, looking around her.

She _almost _fell in love with Killian's laughter, contagious and full of mirth. He hadn't taken too seriously her comment.

"Follow me!" Ruby chirped, taking her hand and dragging her into the building.

Emma was so taken aback by the extrovert girl that she glanced back with a worried expression for having to leave her baby bug unattended with the frustrating car-washer. Speaking of the devil, he warned, "don't upset her, lass, that one bites if she gets angry." He shot her a wink before she disappeared into the cool room, the air conditioner extinguishing all the traces of sweat from her sunbathed body.

"Do you want a slice of pizza? It's Hawaiian today," Ruby asked from behind an improvised kitchen counter.

"I'll have two, and a frozen something," Emma sighed, plopping onto a stool, her gaze still fixed upon the captain, who was using the water hose to rinse the dirt off of her beetle. _What on Earth are those called?_ She wondered, referring to the muscles that bulged out from above his hipbones.

The thin girl quickly handed over her pizza slices on a cardboard plate, and a minute later, she loudly placed a plastic cup containing a mocha frappuccino with whipped cream and cinnamon on top in front of her, making Emma jump out from her reverie.

Ruby's laugh at her painted red the blonde's pale cheeks. "Don't feel bad for staring at him," the brunette advised, grinning from ear to ear, "I don't judge, that man is _walking sex_."

Emma pressed her lips into a timid smile, chewing off a huge bite of her pizza, not really wanting to open up to the stranger.

But the girl failed to notice Emma's lack of response and pressed further. "He never does that, you know?"

"What?" Emma's eyes flickered back at her.

"Wash anyone's car," Ruby pointed with her head to her yellow bug.

_Anyone's car_... _anyone's_... Did that mean she wasn't just anyone? Or that she _was _anyone and he shouldn't be washing her car?

"Rrright, 'cause he's the captain?" Emma inferred dubiously.

"No, actually..." Ruby started to explain, when her cell phone vibrated.

_Saved again!_ Emma breathed freely and returned her gaze outside.

"Granny? Sure... wait... I can't hear you, Killian's listening to Katy again," Ruby sighed in exasperation and she stepped outside to yell at him to turn down the volume. He made a face of not hearing anything that she was trying to say and carried a soapy bucket and a sponge in hand towards the bug.

"Nevermind... yeah, I'm going to the movies with Victor tonight, his dorm is going to play _Frankenweenie_... of course! Besides, the Medicine dorms are not that far from here, what difference does it make?" She loudly chatted, her face giving away thrilling and mischievous expressions.

Emma deduced with a little nod that the flirty performance outside between the captain and the secretary/waitress had been a ruse, no doubt to get a rise out of her.

"Oh, no! We're not having THE talk _again_... Do you have Alzheimer? I'm not a little girl anymore!" Ruby protested and Emma made a mental note to list 'being constantly warned about safe sex by parents' a perk of being on her own. Not that there was a really long list of perks, but hey, she didn't complain.

The red-streaked girl continued her rant, _facepalming_. "Ewww! Granny, seriously, I'm not gonna show you the banana test... no, high school was embarrassing enough..."

Emma grabbed her frozen drink and the remaining bite of her pizza and stepped outside, before she burst out laughing in front of the harassed girl. A dense wave of heat rolled onto her, trying to daze her sane thinking when her eyes locked up onto Killian's shirtless figure, only this time Emma resolved not to stare to get through to him.

He had the bug already covered in a soapy foam and worked quickly with his hands and the sponges to scrub off the stuck dirt of her car. Had people like him were born on this Earth or did they came from another mystical, perfect world? As if my magic, her thoughts were answered...

_You're from a whole 'nother world,_  
_A different dimension,_  
_You open my eyes,_  
_And I'm ready to go,_  
_Lead me into the light!_

The stereo of his car boomed with each bass thrust of the melody, Emma feeling the rattle in her stomach and in each step she took toward his car. She paused when she reached the pilot door, gulping down the last chunk of pizza. The black paint was polished so neatly that she saw her reflection clearly over the hood of the car and she feared that the spell would break if she touched the bodywork, her free hand stopping an inch above it, her frappuccino in the other.

In that instant, she felt a cool breathing over the curve of her neck that sent a shiver to her lower back, and whirled around to face the captain, their bodies at a finger's distance from touching.

_Kiss me, k-k-kiss me..._  
_Infect me with your loving, fill me with your poison..._  
_Take me, ta-ta-take me, _  
_Wanna be a victim, ready for abduction..._

He was looking at her as if he came from another realm and had seen a woman for the first time. The blue pools he had for eyes conveyed veneration mixed with curiosity, his gaze dancing over her face, studying her worry lines and the dark circles under her eyes, formulating questions to answers she was not ready nor willing to provide. But every hair and nerve in her body screamed that she could trust him, contrary to what her guarded mind ordered.

_Boy, you're an alien, your touch so foreign,_  
_It's supernatural, extraterrestrial..._

Killian tucked a golden strand of unruly hair behind her ear with his right hand, the small gesture making her body fully aware of their proximity. She noticed that he had a large, red tattoo of a heart, with thorns projecting from it, wandering around his arm, a blurry name she couldn't quite make out written above it.

_A hook in one hand and a heart on the other_, Emma hypothesized about a troubled past and a lost love. _Much like your own_, her otherwise engaged conscience offered.

_This is transcendental,_  
_On another level,_  
_Boy, you're my lucky star..._

If Emma had been stubborn enough to not give into his charms, she now wished the opposite. Dumbfounded and dazzled, her eyes fixed on his, she observed as he slowly and painfully ducked his head toward hers, his hooded gaze suddenly lethal and alluring. If she hadn't seen him sweat before, she would've been equally surprised with the way he smelled - like he'd spent the entire day in the ocean - so different from the way a car-washer in Boston should've smelled. She took a deep breath, inhaling him, and her lips parted ever so slightly, and she reckoned that her conscience wasn't wailing in alarm at the oncoming bomb.

_I wanna walk on your wave length,_  
_And be there when you vibrate,_  
_For you I'll risk it all... all!_

Killian was pleased at the effect he was producing on her - at least she wasn't guarded behind her walls in those few minutes. No, he could deduct from the way they stared into each other's eyes that somehow they were willing to trust each other. Her eyes...

He fell in love with her green, stormy eyes, even fiercer by the afternoon light. He admired the way the sun kissed her face and lit up her golden hair, her lips flushed pink in anticipation. It felt odd to throw himself like that on a girl - most of them would be making out with him by now. And he realized in this short time, that he acted differently around her, not only because he had to work harder to get her special attention, but because he had to be the better man - a _gentleman _- and no other woman had made him feel like that in a really long time.

_Kiss me, k-k-kiss me..._

Killian had stopped his mouth within a hair's breadth of hers, but she hadn't moved an inch. She didn't close the distance, but neither did she flinch. She hadn't run away when she saw his tattooed arm, either. She was sure he was going to kiss her, and so was he, until the last moment, when a flip on his insides confirmed what he suspected: that something promising could come out from the sparks in the air that they _both _felt. There was no denying that, even if the girl vehemently refused to acknowledge it. And boy, was he willing to stir up trouble if that could guarantee he could see her again.

Reluctantly, he gave up on his plan of kissing her good and proper, and deviated his lips toward the frozen drink in her hand, wrapping them around the straw and sipping some of the beverage. And then she blinked wide awake, a hard look on her eyes.

_Oh, woe is me_, was Killian's last thought as he braced himself for an undeserved - at least on his mind - slap on his right cheek.

"What the bloody hell was that for?" Killian groaned more amused than irritated at the feisty lass.

"For slacking," Emma remorselessly replied as she sat back smugly on the hood of his polished, shiny car. "Tick-tock!"

"Hey!" Killian began to protest when she saw her climb over her car, but he relented with a scoff. The infuriating woman knew how to make him pay for laying his charms on her. He proceeded to rinse her car, working in silence, almost regretting the decision of not kissing her. The pleasure of it would have made him forget the throbbing pain on his cheek.

Emma said nothing else as she let Killian dry her car. She'd let her guard down and if the bastard hadn't changed his intentions, she would've been wrapped around his finger - or another appendage - by now. The bad boy wouldn't be her downfall, not again.

"How much is it?" Emma asked as she approached him and her now dry car, her arms folded.

"No charge," Killian offered, shrugging his shoulders. "This one's on me, for your troubles."

Emma inspected his face; he wasn't playing any games right now. The slap had served him well, apparently.

"And if I refuse?" She dared, crossing her arms over her chest, wanting to make clear that she didn't need charity and she hated to be in debt with others. In her opinion, a 'small favor' could always be collected in harsh ways; this much she recalled from her rough childhood.

"Try something new darling," he reprimanded her with a soft, low voice, "it's called trust."

_Cards on the table, Emma_, her cricket chirped. "Fine," she sternly replied, "but I owe you nothing."

He nodded before a mischievous glare set onto his eyes, changing his mind, "well, we could call you to participate in a wet T-shirt contest."

_Ah! _She looked away, half-smiling. There went his efforts, down the drain with the dirty suds from her car, but she decided to play it cool, feeling the urge to get to her apartment and away from this idiot hell-bent on ruining her life.

"You know, sometimes I think I should just go ahead and do it," she smoldered at his surprised face, "but then I think... mmm, better not." She finished the sentence with a pucker of her nose and climbed onto her car, igniting her shiny baby to life.

"At least tell me your name!" He called out to her over the roar of her engine, ducking his head to peek at her rolled-down window, invading her personal space yet again.

His dying puppy eyes were so not fair, and that much she owed him. "It's Emma," she relented, small dimples appearing on her cheeks, "Emma Swan."

"Emma," he answered with the widest grin he'd formed in a really long time, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, tasting her name.

Emma was forced to look away. No one should be allowed to change from cute to sexy in a blink. Those were the people who had to be cuffed down... _wait, what?_

"Where's my pixie dust?" She asked, referring to the candy she had bought earlier.

"Hmm?" Killian hummed, a bar of said candy in his mouth.

"You're infuriating," she sentenced. "You shouldn't be the _Captain_... 'Pan' fits you more than your moniker."

"But Pan was a cocky, careless, selfish and arrogant _brat_," he argued, shaking his head in denial.

"My thoughts exactly," she smiled wickedly.

"_You_ should be Tinker Bell," he countered, their little banter igniting his interest for her even more so, "fickle, ill-tempered, jealous, vindictive... all, '_oohh, where's my pixie dust, you rotten pirate?_'"

Emma rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at him.

He laughed back at her, of course, entertained with her purposeful role-playing, "my point exactly."

Emma set off the hand brake and teased him one last time, "very well, _Pan_, don't you have to attend a Lost Boy's meeting or teach them how to scout or make 'big fire' or something?" Her glare meaning, 'would you get out of my car window? I'm trying to leave.'

Killian asked, raising an eyebrow, "do you want to stay and watch the open rehearsal? I can bring a Wendy for you to pick on her, _Tink_. It'd be fun."

"Thanks, but I've been told that every time a teenage boy band rehearses, a fairy dies," she grimaced, "so I better not be around."

He shook his head and bit his lower lip in amusement, "okay, lass, you can tell _Emma_ she can come by, or the day after that... or the day after that..."

"I'll pass it on!" She yelled as she revved the engine and raced away, leaving a sighing pirate behind.

* * *

**A/N**: Well, here's the first part of this two-part fic! I've written the rest already, so you'll probably get it posted by Tuesday. :) The songs used in this part were Sexyback by Justin Timberlake and E.T. by Katy Perry. The first one, 'cause you know ;) and the latter one, because 'Colin loves Katy Perry'. XD Happy Sunday!


	2. What a Wicked Game to play

**A/N**: Hope you like this part two! Thank you so much for your great response to this wacko idea! I'm glad you're enjoying this little story as much as I am! Actually, DoubleDee068 commented that Killian should see Emma 'doing her job' so I modified this second part a bit so he could experience, first-hand, Emma's tough side. ;) But don't worry, he won't suffer... much. XD And smexy times are coming, I hope I did them justice...

* * *

**Part Two: "What a wicked game to play..."  
**

She'd woken up soaking wet from the heat. It was already dark, how much had she slept? _8:05_, her digital clock announced.

She stumbled into the cold shower, shampooing her hair with a coconut-smelling concoction. Emma had developed an unhealthy obsession for the tropical fruit during the two years she spent in Tallahassee - something good had come out from living in that place, after all. Engulfed by the beachy scent, she relaxed into the cool, pressurized water massaging her back, and let her few happy memories in that place flood her mind. The calming rhythm of the ocean waves she was imagining soothed her otherwise restless thoughts about her dreams.

A thorned-heart tattoo had flashed through... a hooded gaze, a hook... _what had it all meant? A lost soul? A mourning lover? A vengeful man?_

Soon, she was standing with her palms pressed into the wall of her shower, the cool waterfall caressing her scalp, trying to forget the ocean blue eyes imprinted on the back of her mind... but to no avail. She would be forced to investigate who this Killian Jones was. Yes, the bad boy facade and his murky tattoos were most likely an indication of a troubled past, a few run-ins with the law here or there. She smiled pleased with her brilliant idea: once she found out the kind of man he truly was, she'd be willing to forget his dastardly face in a heartbeat.

She sat in front of her laptop, a bowl of mango ice cream in her lap, when she grabbed her keys to fetch her USB and blinked at them, noticing that something was missing. More exactly, her _star_ keyring was missing, _her lucky star_. Instantly feeling a hole in her stomach, she tried to recollect where she could have possibly dropped it. She never let anyone near her stuff... _No one..._

"That pillaging brute!" She fumed as she put on her black sneakers, grabbed her handcuffs and bolted through the door, enraged. Oh, he would certainly be sorry for this; he had stepped way over the line, and she would definitely use her license to hunt him down if he refused to return it.

Maybe it was time for her to move out; Boston suddenly felt crowded and air-tight, she pondered in her drive to the infamous car-wash garage.

* * *

_The world was on fire and no-one could save me but you._  
_It's strange what desire will make foolish people do._  
_No, I'd never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you,_  
_And I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you..._

Emma skillfully parked her throttling car next to Killian's, and slammed the door of her bug shut with less anger than she wanted to summon, the band's accurate performance of Wicked Game surprising her.

_No, I don't wanna fall in love, no,_  
_No, I don't wanna fall in love,_  
_This world will break your heart,_  
_Nobody's falling in love..._

Emma never gave a second thought about changing her clothes, not until Killian saw her coming and announced over his microphone with enthusiasm, "you look ravishing in your groupie outfit, _Tink_!"

She stopped in her tracks to glance at herself: she had left on her black, stripped-off denim shorts, and cropped white t-shirt that showed off her navel as she stampeded toward him. _Goddamned heat!_ She cursed, throwing her arms up in exasperation. She might as well have walked into a bullfight dressed in red, but oddly enough, the bull wasn't preparing to stomp her... He was trying to distract her.

Entering the garage, she pointed toward him, "you pirate!" She gritted between her teeth, fists clenched, ready to strike a punch at the first lie that dared to come out of his mouth.

"Chillz," he had the nerve to admonish. Killian had expected her to overreact; he had expected her to come by the next day to pick up her seemingly insignificant trinket, but this was bordering on psycho. Had he known that the star souvenir would have such a deep value to her, he never would have stolen it. "Gents, you know the drill..." he called over to his mates, who shot each other knowing looks.

_'Know the drill'? Why am I not amused?_ Emma shook her head, her teeth grinding.

"We might's well call it a day, lad, if you're going to be busy swanning 'round", the lead singer jested.

_'Swanning'_? That wasn't even a word, yet she knew that his band had definitely heard of her, and she had the feeling that the red-streaked goth chick had nothing to do with it.

Johnny chose to philosophize, placing his guitar down, "what vexes all men?"

"A woman," Brush mocked, hanging his bass on its support.

Emma merely tapped the carpeted floor impatiently with her foot, waiting for the men to leave, hopefully before hell froze over.

Rojo chuckled as he exited the garage with the rest of the band, "hell hath no fury..."

"Like a woman scorned," Monty finished for him.

Their Irish banter disappeared down the hallway, and crickets chirping their mating songs were the only sound left in the open garage.

Killian calmly stored his bass in its case, bracing himself for the ass-kicking that he had no doubt Emma would impart. He liked that about her; she was more than capable of taking care of herself, she didn't act like a porcelain princess, she didn't withhold her tongue, always voicing her honest and sometimes crude opinions. And he couldn't bring himself to hate the way she supposedly hated on him. It wasn't the fact that he had known his fair share of women in his life that helped him read her so well; no, it was something else entirely. He smirked at that thought, and caught her fuming over his indifference._ Here comes the whiplash in three, two, one..._

"Oh, you have no idea who you messed up with, buddy," Emma chanted, still glaring at him, her hips tilted to a side.

"Oooh, shiver me timbers!" He mocked, standing up after closing the trunk of his instrument case. "I never thought you'd show up so early, but if you're willing to start the party sooner, far be it from me to stop you!" He concluded, flashing her a salacious grin and striding slowly to meet her.

_Is he trying to talk himself out of this one or what?_ "What are you talking about?" Emma asked, befuddled and annoyed.

"You got me," he chanted, lifting both hands and eyebrows up, "aren't you going to cuff me? Lay down your law? Kick my ass and whatnot?"

Emma blinked, astonished. She had thought he'd put some resistance to her, but instead, here he was, handing himself over. None of her fugitives had ever consented to be dragged to justice, obviously, but this extra-official case of her concern, did.

Maybe he wasn't as bad as she made him out to be. _Maybe_ she liked him and his reckless attitude a little, her conscience offered. _No, let's get this over with._

"Don't be afraid you know, to _really_ get into it," he pestered.

"That's exactly what you want, don't you little lost boy?" Emma retorted. He wasn't having her undivided attention, not anymore, so she demanded seriously, "this is not funny. Give me my star back."

He snorted. "What makes you think I will? I had to keep a little souvenir of my conquest - all respectable pirates do," Killian unabashedly countered.

"I'm so _not_ your conquest, and I couldn't care less about the stupid pirate wannabe act," she raged, closing the distance between them. "I... want... my... keyring, _now_," she spelled, poking his chest harshly at every word. Her gaze was murderous, her nostrils flared, completely infuriated with the way he conducted himself so nonchalantly at her threats.

"_Liar_," he growled, leveling his piercing gaze with hers.

"What?" She blinked, arching away from him.

He leaned into her even further, but she took a wary step back. "You heard me," he replied, his eyes studying her facial expressions, "you're here because you care. You came back... because you feel something." He stepped near her again, and she stepped back, falling into a dance.

"Don't you dare turn this on me! I came back for my keyring," she glared. "But you're right, I do feel something... like murdering you if you don't give it back," she squinted at him, her head held high. "If I were to pick 'dead guy of the year', I'd pick you," she finished with a thin, sarcastic smile.

She hit the cool metal of the bumper of the yellow VW with her calves; he had her dangerously pinned between him and her car.

"You know you won't, love" he whispered, tracing a finger under a black strap that had fallen from her shoulder, placing it back with his rough, gentle fingers. He felt in control of the situation, enjoying their position. "You may think this rough facade you've built around yourself keeps you from getting hurt, but it also keeps other good things out."

Emma gaped in disbelief - she hadn't signed up for this - but she would show him how far she was willing to go.

She gulped with difficulty and then stared into his eyes. "But not feeling anything is an attractive option when what you felt sucked," she lamented.

Killian lifted up his hands to cup her face; her eyes were red and watery. He felt the need to tear down her walls and he resolved to, even if that meant taking down brick by brick.

And that was her cue: she crouched down to slink to his side, grappling his wrists firmly and used her knee to kick him hard on his stomach, knocking the air out of his lungs. She then took advantage of his confused and distressed state and twisted his arms back, shoving him head-on against the pilot door of her car. Pressing her arm firmly against his back to keep him from struggling - not that he was resisting - she cuffed him in a swift move. "I can't believe you fell for that line," she remarked. "I expected more from you."

Instead of feeling angry and frustrated at her harsh maneuver, Killian felt a rush of pride at her skills to best him; she was right, he didn't see that one coming. "Ah, but you didn't let me down... you did bring your cuffs," he noted, unable to contain a hint of excitement in his strangled voice, breathing with difficulty.

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Emma ordered as her free hand frisked him, palming his hard body to recover her keychain.

"I love when you talk dirty," Killian chuckled, thoroughly enjoying getting a rise out of her, and also basking in the sensations that her hands aroused throughout his stomach, legs and back, leaving a scorching trail behind.

Emma pursed her lips, focusing on her immediate goal, trying to ignore the jolts of electricity that ran her through with each raking motion of her hand. These actions cost her more than she dared to admit. She had to remind herself that this was just another job, that she should treat him like just another one of her preys. When she didn't find what she was looking for, she exhaled loudly with relief, jerking her hand away from his smooth, warm skin.

"Oh, don't stand on ceremony, lass. You don't need my permission to keep your hands on me," the bastard smirked against the cool metal of the yellow bodywork.

"You're awfully chipper for a guy who is about to get arrested," Emma gritted between her teeth.

"And you're awfully _thorough_ for a bail bondsperson," Killian countered.

"_What_? Did you-? _How_?" She stuttered.

"No to the first, yes to the second. And as for the third, you're something of an open book," he simply answered.

"You rummaged through my stuff?!" Emma hissed. He actually had gone as far as inspecting her bag. He had to have found her bail bondsperson license there, but as to when did he find the time beneath her constant supervision earlier, Emma had no clue.

"I think this is the part where I ask for a lawyer," he mumbled to himself. "Now, I'm in love with these cuffs, darling, but I'd prefer to do more enjoyable activities with you tied up." He purred.

"Like hell you would!" She sneered at his persistent innuendos, shoving him against the glass for the second time.

"How about you un-cuff me and you'll get what you're looking for? Deal?" His voice was steady and rational.

That was the closest she would get to recover her star, because apparently he became more thrilled than threatened with her violent and grueling tactics. "No funny business?"

"Pirate's honor."

"I guess I don't need to remind you what will happen to your 'goods' should you choose to break our deal?" Emma whispered into his ear, leaning into him with her full body weight.

A shiver ran down his spine upon feeling Emma's body pressed against him. "I would despair if you didn't," he muttered, eyes shut.

With a loud sigh, Emma reluctantly pulled her keys out from her left sneaker and set him free, immediately taking a good two steps' back distance as a precaution.

Killian eyed her out of the corner of his eye, massaging his wrists and leaning back onto her bug. He then locked his eyes with hers and pulled out of his black, sleeveless shirt his silver chain, her silver star dangling as the third pendant.

"You missed a spot," he clarified at her incredulous face, a mischievous glint in his dark-lined eyes.

"Great! Okay, I'm not _that_ thorough," she realized that she hadn't gone as far as searching his upper chest. "Now, keep your part of our deal," she dictated, standing in front of him again.

"I said 'you'll get what you're looking for', but I never implied it was just _this_," he smirked, satisfied with his little guile.

"Seriously?" _Pirate!_ She cocked her head to the side and huffed in bewilderment; she hadn't been paying attention to the words of their deal for she was being careful not to let her wild side take over. Now, he was claiming to know what she was looking for. "How the hell would you know what I want?!"

"Why don't you tell me why this star is so important to you, Emma?" He asked, forfeiting the pet names, his gaze still piercing but without a hint of the playfulness that had annoyed her before. He looked genuinely interested and worried... for her.

She gulped before she could find her voice. "Why? Why do you care?"

"Because we share the same look in our eyes when we think others aren't watching," his eyes turned droopy and his voice incredibly yearning. "The look you get when you've been abandoned... left alone."

How on Earth did he read that much into her? And after spending only half the evening with him? She realized with remorse that her plan backfired; barely an hour ago she wanted to unmask him and here she was, being the one unmasked. Furious at herself for allowing this to happen, she shielded herself into her walls again.

"Oh, really? And why don't you tell me all about your tattoos?" She spat out. "We can take turns playing Dr. Phil, you know," she quipped.

A hard, grim haze settled upon his eyes, and she immediately regretted her harsh demand, biting her lips shut as she watched him become the fearsome alter ego he claimed to be.

"I was in love," he finally growled, surprising her with his confession.

"Where is she?" She caught herself whispering, since he didn't reveal anything else.

"She's gone..." he gloomily said, casting his eyes down. His eyebrows knit together, he muttered, "have you ever-"

"Once," she nodded.

Killian's gaze flickered back at her, judging by her expression it hadn't gone well either. If he was still scared about his past catching up to him every now and then, this girl feared that even more than he did. The ache in his heart at reopening his wound was similar to what he saw in her stormy eyes, their flooding depths about to be broken. He now felt sorry for subjecting her to his childish prank, and he understood if she never wanted to see him again.

In an effort to cheer her up and call her good night despite his unruly behavior and her rough reactions, he unhooked her silver star from his chain. "Here," he said, placing the star on her hand, closing it gently.

She felt the comfortable warmth of Killian's hand seeping through to hers, and for the first time she didn't flinch back. He hadn't asked more about her past, just like she hadn't asked for his. A silent understanding passed among them that they didn't need share anything else, both recognizing the familiar pain in the other, despite their differences.

His lips approached her, reluctant to let her go, but knowing he'd probably not be in her good graces now. Planting the smallest kiss upon her forehead, he inhaled her beachy scent one last time. "Good night, Emma."

She watched him walk away and turn of the lights of the garage through her watery sight. He managed to breach through every wall of hers, called her in on all her bluffs, and somehow she knew that despite all their banter and picking at each other, there lay a broken, gentle creature just like herself beneath his carefree appearance. She should have been angrier at him, but the sadness in his blue eyes at letting her go weighed more on her conscience than the fact that she almost wanted to strangle him before.

Right then and there, the clock tower of the establishment struck ten. Looking up at it, sitting in the hood of her car, a very familiar melody full of longing reached out to her from Killian's harmonica.

_The second star to the right shines in the night for you,_  
_To tell you that the dreams you plan really can come true._  
_The second star to the right shines with a light that's rare,_  
_And if it's Neverland you need, it's light will lead you there._

_Twinkle, twinkle little star, so I'll know where you are,_  
_Gleaming in the skies above, lead me to the one who loves me..._  
_And when you bring him my way, each time we say "Goodnight",_  
_We'll thank the little star that shines the second from the right._

She couldn't stop the fleeting smile that crossed her face; she had to be dreaming right now. For the first time in so many years, she felt hopeful; everything would be okay, and she had to thank the person she never suspected to be responsible for cracking through her shell.

It was fairly certain she would take off after tonight. The ransom she cashed today would help her settle somewhere else. Perhaps a small town in Maine would do, the mild, cold climate would not let disturbing, dangerous, mind-boggling heat waves such as this one into the mainland.

Standing up from her vehicle, she called into the dark garage, "Killian?", a shiver running down her spine upon pronouncing his name.

She waited a few seconds before he appeared behind her, startling her. "Yes?" He asked, his gaze hooded.

She turned to meet him and offered him a crooked smile. "Thank you," she softly said, planting a small, hesitant kiss on his stubble-covered jaw. She walked away to leave, but a firm hand took hold of her wrist and spun her around, her body colliding full-front with his.

Her chest heaved in surprise, and a drumming noise in her ears due to her hammering chest drowned her conscience. "What are you doing?" She asked, breathless, feeling him grasp both of her wrists on her back with his left hand.

His smirk, his hungry smolder and the way he wet his lower lip only made her mouth go dry. "Going after what I've been looking for," he growled, their foreheads pressed together. He nudged her nose with his to tilt her face to the side and pecked her lightly on the lips, tentatively, his gaze gauging her response.

She was emotionally lost to his charms, confused by the way he acted around her, and that scared her so much that she tried to wiggle her arms out of his steadfast hold. But the truth was, she wasn't actually trying _that_ hard to break free, for at the same time she felt the need to give into his mystery, she felt curious to know in which other ways he could drive her crazy, the teasing poppycock. His cerulean eyes fixed on hers were too much to bear, they mesmerized her coherent thinking.

Once he sensed her stubborn will was nearly dissolved, he was about to kiss her again, but she beat him, crashing her lips against his. Her kiss was not tentative, it was hungry, ravenous, desperate. He freed her hands, astonished by her need and quickly his lips matched the unbridled pace of hers. He cupped her face with one hand and used his other one to brush back a few silken strands of her hair before gently tugging her nape backwards, to allow himself access to her parted mouth. "_Emma_", he breathed into it.

Emma drew in a heavy breath before she felt his tongue memorize each corner of her mouth, her eyebrows arching with pleasure with each flick of his skillful muscle. She realized with a whimper that her hands had been set free and she stored her star keychain in the back pocket of her shorts before her hands grazed his body, moving upwards, palming his chest and twining her fingers on the back of his neck, this time taking the chance to feel him thoroughly. "_Killian_", she moaned when the hand that had cupped her face moved to her lower back, his fingers digging into her, pulling her hips flush against his.

Killian dragged his teeth across her lower lip, nipping it not so gently to mark her as his, tugging persistently at it. In return, Emma's nails clutched his neck and nape, leaving thin red trails on his moonlit skin. When he released it, Emma took advantage of his tilted head and began kissing his chin and nibbling at his jaw, her hands traveling down to his chest to grip his sleeveless shirt, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.

Both of his hands were pressed into her hipbones, leading her back to the hood of his car, while she kept planting kisses on his jaw, her teeth raking toward his ear. She reached it and gently tugged at it at the same time that her calves collided with the Camaro's fender and she fell onto her back, Killian's quick hands catching her head and waist, lifting her up to recline her further atop the hood.

She welcomed the change of position, for her knees were getting weaker and the pool of heat gathering at her core was getting greedy. She needed to feel him closer, and so she pulled him above her, her arms circling his torso and her nails raking over his lean back up and down while he kissed the hell out of her. He had to recline his left arm on the trunk for support, and Emma's feet cupped his ass up to squeeze him further against her, the rapacious minx.

Killian broke their kiss to suck gently at the hollow on the base of her neck, the pendants of her necklaces clashing with the cool metal below. Emma gasped audibly when she felt his other hand sneaking under her shirt, his thumb lazily circling her navel, registering Killian's smirk at her neck. The throbbing of her already wet core became even more intense and unbearable, and she wondered if Killian felt the same. If they continued to play this wicked game, they would soon need either a cold shower or a prevention measure.

Her mind brought back the lyrics of the song his band had been rehearsing...

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.

Emma grasped his dark, disheveled hair in her hands and pulled his mouth back into hers. Their tongues collided and fought in a battle of wills, each trying to prove the better kisser, rejecting the air influx to their lungs until they felt dizzy and lightheaded. In the short time they parted with their make out to gasp for air, Emma bit the tip of his tongue, drawing out a groan from Killian, his shiver sending sparks of electricity to her lower abdomen.

_I'd never dreamed that I'd love somebody like you.  
And I'd never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you._

The woman was going to be his downfall. He shut his eyes to relish in the sensations that her coiling fingers were producing on his scalp and chest. He was putty in her hands and so was she in his. This special chemistry was not to be taken lightly; it was a drug, rare and intoxicating and volatile. It had to be handled with care, otherwise its instability was going to burn them both in the process.

_What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way,_  
_What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you..._

He felt Emma's hand reach out for his still hand on her abdomen and drawing it up toward her warm and soft breasts and he broke their kiss, staring into her eyes intensely. Strangely enough, he didn't know what to tell her. She was willing and ready to move onto the next level, so what stopped him? What was he supposed to do? "Do you want to have sex in the hood of my car?" He breathlessly asked.

Much to his surprise she answered in a throaty voice, "if it's too rough for your baby we can have sex over mine."

_What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way,  
What a wicked thing to do, to let me dream of you..._

His response to her sassy smirk was immediate: he clenched his hand that lay atop her breast, and Emma whimpered, biting her lip and arching her back.

"Look at me, Emma," he whispered as he trailed hot, warm kisses over the curve of her cleavage.

_No, I don't wanna fall in love, this world will break your heart, nobody's falling in love..._

"I don't want to fall in love, Killian," Emma bleated, refusing to look up at him.

He scoffed and his hand left her breasts to cradle her head and sit her up, making her look into his irrefutable eyes that confirmed her suspicions. It was much too late for that.

"Nobody's falling in love, darling," he lied purposefully. They were past the point of no return. And he could see that Emma knew that as well, nodding slowly and trying to calm her breathing.

"Okay, so... what now, _captain_?" She threw back her head to shake the hair off of her face.

He grinned naughtily, his blue ocean eyes turning indigo with lust. In one swift move he cupped the back of her knees with his hands and dragged her hips toward him, so she could cross her legs around him. "We count the booty, my _jolly s__ailor bold_," he commanded wantonly. At the same time he delved his fingers beneath the seam of her ultra-short shorts, jolts of pleasure shooting across her body.

She quickly grappled the neck of his shirt, letting out a shaky breath, her eyelids fluttering from the sensation of his fingers rubbing her throbbing nub in circles. The cool and hot waves emanating from her lower abdomen messed with the synapses of her brain and she had to recline her head over Killian's chest. She remembered his daring words and inhaled sharply before staring into his blue pools of desire.

He bit his lip in a lopsided grin at the sight of a very flushed and dewy Emma warring to give into the crippling feelings of pleasure as she struggled to stare him down. She was sitting in the hood of his car, her back erected like an merciless, impassive goddess.

"_In_," she ordered in a tight voice, rolling her hips at his fingers as best as she could, for the agonizingly slow pace was not taking her faster to where she wanted to go.

"Nuh-uh..." he denied. Now it was his turn to be stubborn and make her suffer a little.

"Bloody pirate," she cursed, slapping him playfully in his cheek.

Killian stifled a laugh and picked up the pace, rubbing her harder, his nails grazing her swollen bud in the process.

Emma couldn't take it any longer, feeling herself approach a lot faster to her release, and had to bite Killian's pectoral from moaning out loud.

He growled at her response, stiffening his stance, and pulled her feverish back into the cool trunk of his car, pressing his hands on each side of her face. His smolder was lascivious and he ran his tongue across his lips in anticipation. "You treacherous mermaid," he scolded with a smirk before biting Emma's lips, the screeching sound of teeth against teeth filling their ears and invigorating the fire consuming their needy parts.

Emma began to rake her hands over his stomach, reaching lower and lower until she felt the button of his tight, leather pants and undid it with a snap of her fingers. She was going to unzip the final barrier when a giggling sound and the noise of sloppy footsteps reached them. Emma craned her neck behind her to look at their intruders; if Killian's band had been lurking around or worse, recording all this into their memories, she'd make sure he would pay for a really, really long time.

Killian didn't break his trap made with his arms, but he gaped, keeping his eyes at the corner of the building to where the irregular sounds approached, his brows furrowed.

Suddenly, his barely dressed sister whirled into view, her body twisted in knots against a fair-haired man, who clutched her ass with one hand and her head in the other, sucking at her neck. He pressed her against the cool concrete of the building and continued his ministrations with her. Ruby let out a sharp cry and the boyfriend smiled against her skin, revealing a white, sharp fang that glinted in the moonlight.

Killian slowly and unwillingly stood up and tilted his head back to look up at the sky, closing his eyes and breathing deeply to calm his racing bloodstream. He felt a cooling drizzle begin to fall from the now cloudy night sky, in perfect timing to quench the savage thirst of both couples.

Emma sat up, acknowledging that their spell was broken, and an idea popped into her head. The two lovebirds making out against the wall were oblivious to their presence and she tugged Killian's arm to whisper a plan into his ear to get back at them.

Ruby whimpered in pleasure when Victor's hand raced upwards into her impossibly short skirt, but her eyes snapped open when she heard a familiar, throaty voice call out from their side.

"Well, well, look what the wolf dragged in," Killian sarcastically admonished.

They both jumped in alarm, Victor distancing a good two steps away from his girl. He'd heard a lot about Jones from his friends, that warned him not to date his 'little' sister. He figured he could introduce himself, before his knees started to shake from the deadly glare the though man was giving him.

Ruby was dumbfounded, never expecting her 'big bro' to be around by the time they came here.

"Dr. Victor Whale," he offered, extending an open hand toward Killian, the other hand wiping off Ruby's signature, blood-red lipstick.

"Doctor?" Killian raised an eyebrow in disbelief, his arms were folded across his chest, making them look a lot more menacing due to his sleeveless shirt.

"F-finishing my residence, yes. I got a job in the genetic research department at Mass General," Whale announced, expecting his flashy resume impress the zealous half-brother.

"Jekyll or Frankenstein?" Killian asked out of nowhere, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Jones!" Ruby scowled and stepped in front of Victor, ready to defend her partner.

But Killian hadn't looked away from Victor's gaze, expecting him to answer the tricky question.

He gulped before answering, tossing an imaginary coin into the air. "Uh... Frankenstein?"

Killian burst out laughing and approached Victor to shake his hand, but Ruby had already pinned him, her arms locked his in a wrench behind his back.

"Hey!" A female voice called from behind her, "hands off, _wolf girl_!"

"Fuck!" Was the last thing Ruby said before a water jet spilled onto her face, causing her to break her hold of Killian.

"You're bloody brilliant!" He called out to Emma animatedly, reaching out to pick up another hose, but being shoved off to the ground by Victor, who was now pointing at him with the ready hose.

"Stop soaking my girlfriend or your boyfriend will regret it," he shouted at the blond chick.

Emma immediately shut the flow of water from her hose and opened her mouth to protest about the 'boyfriend' part when she heard Ruby chime in delight, "so, I'm your girlfriend?"

"Sure," Victor replied shrugging his shoulders, "why would I want you howling around campus and single? You're _my_ monster."

"Aww, baby!" Ruby strode toward him and hugged him tightly.

Emma gagged at Ruby and Victor, a little nauseated from their cheesy exchange, and Killian chuckled, shooting her a wink.

She nodded and on three, Killian snatched the hose from Victor and both showered them while they kissed. Ruby giggled and rubbed her nose against his, not minding getting soaking wet as long as Victor was there too.

Since they continued kissing the hell out of each other despite the shower, Killian turned to face Emma, smiling wickedly at her and she could only curse before she felt the cool torrent of water squirting over her top. She laughed out loud when Killian pointed it at her ribs and neck, the ticklish sensations making her squirm. However, she put on a brave face and did her best to leave Killian completely soaked up as well, but soon realized that it had been a mistake, for he looked hotter than his shirtless version, the dark, damp material of his shirt sticking into his muscles, defining them even in the blue light coming from the establishment's flickering sign. He made a show of running his fingers lazily through his wet hair, tormenting Emma who immediately closed her hose to end their little prank and cling to the shrinking sanity she had left after tonight's events.

"We're going to Victor's place to dry off," Ruby informed Killian, taking off her high heels and pick-pocketing Killian's keys.

"Oi! Why are you taking my car?" Killian frowned.

"Because you're the best brother in the world," Ruby beamed, leaving red-stained kisses upon his cheek, grateful he had approved of her relationship with Victor.

Killian had to relent at his sister's persistent pecks. "Fine," he groaned, "but, be careful." Emma didn't know if he was referring to his sister or his car.

"Bye, Emma!" Ruby waved her with a weird, smug look on her face that somehow warned Emma that she would be demanding a full-scale, detailed retelling of the night's events with her brother.

Killian then shook Victor's hand in approval, "sorry, mate. Merely looking out for my girl, I was."

"No offense taken," he grinned back.

"Tell Granny I slept at your place," she called, lifting a hand up in goodbye.

"No shit! And let her aim her old crossbow at my handsome face?" He shouted, receiving a mocking, wounded howl from the wolf girl in response as they drove away.

Emma was squeezing the excess of water from her hair, smiling at the whole scene before her. How had she longed for a big brother in her lonely life, one that would stand up for her and partner with, one that would take care of her like Killian and Ruby did.

Killian watched her pensive expression and reached for her, hooking his fingers in the loops of her shorts. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you home? Help you dry off that shirt, perhaps?"

"Absolutely not. You had earned it and then you threw your chance overboard," Emma puckered.

"But rain flatters you, my dear," Killian grinned while ogling at her wet chest. Her black, lacy bra below her white shirt was probably see-through, she recalled. "Besides, how will I get home, now?"

"Liar, liar," she scolded, and he puckered innocently, "you can't fool me, you live here."

He rolled her eyes at her, "aren't you perceptive? That's why I like you," he said, prickling her nose. She returned his gesture with a light punch on his shoulder.

"Well, it appears I'll need another car wash tomorrow," she huffed, looking up at the overcast sky. The light drizzle had evolved into a proper rain during their playtime.

Killian smiled at her wistfully. "I agree, milady," he consented, brushing his scruffy lips on her fingers. "I'll keep a weather eye out for your yellow ship, then," he winked at her.

"You do that, _sailor_," she walked back at her bug, winking back.

"It's _captain_!" He corrected, throwing his arms up the air.

"Whatever, _Hook_," she rolled her eyes at him and he smirked salaciously at her retreating form, noticing with a small flame of hope that his burdensome tattoos already felt lighter.

**The End**

* * *

**A/N**: So, I hope you liked this final part! The song for this chapter was Phillip Phillips' Wicked game. And I hope you noticed who the members of Killian's band were! XD I'm gonna have to promise to write the next chapter of My Karaoke Nights this week, before Hook comes back from Manhattan in the series and I go completely fangirl crazy! :] Thanks for being patient tho!

I had a blast writing all this, and I love Frankenwolf as you may have guessed! :D Let me know if you want a Storybrooke version of this story! ;) Have a good week, beanies! And many thanks to my sister for beta-ing! : )


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